


You're Back

by Catchclaw



Series: Mental Mimosa [208]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: But Bucky is Still Broken, Dreams, Fingerfucking, In Which Zemo's Plan Fails, M/M, Post-Civil War (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 19:40:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17065871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/pseuds/Catchclaw
Summary: He dreams that he’s spread on Bucky’s fingers. Not the blood and bone ones. The metal ones; the cold, killing kind.





	You're Back

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: a random convo with Crowgirl about Steve and Magneto. Don't ask.

He dreams that he’s spread on Bucky’s fingers. Not the blood and bone ones. The metal ones; the cold, killing kind.

He dreams that he’s spread on Bucky’s fingers and Bucky is tucked over him, nuzzling his cheek, breathing hard against his mouth and groaning when he does, when he arches his back like he’s starving and begs Buck to give him more.

_Shhhhh_ , Bucky says in his dream. A warm sound, a sweet one. _I’m giving you plenty, baby._ _You're so fucking full, aren't you?_

_Yes._ His voice a wet choke, already desperate. _But--_

_But what?_

He claws at the metal-flesh shoulder, tugs unruly at the long, dampened hair. _It’s not enough, Buck. I need you_.

A shudder, a soft moan that make his cock twitch in his fist. _You have me, Stevie. You always have. God, don’t you know that?_

He’s wanton in this dream, mouthy. It’s so much easier to say what he wants when he knows that none of this is real. _I want you to fuck me_.

_I am fucking you_. A twist, a much harder shove; a grind of gears he can’t see but oh, god, he can feel.

_I know, I know, but I want--_

The rhythm changes--things get quicker, deeper--and Bucky growls, a sound that makes him shake from the top of his head to his feet. _No,_ _I’m not giving you my cock_ , Bucky says in his ear. There’s a fierceness there, a certainty, that makes his head feel like it’s on fire.  _You come on my fingers or not at all_.

In his dream, when he comes, it’s with a start, a shout that rings in his ear, a kick of heat that seals their skin together as sure as Bucky’s mouth on his, those long, awful fingers stilling as Steve rides them, his body rocking against the metal hand long after his balls are empty.

_Bucky_ , he says then, a dozen times. A hundred. _You’re back. You’re back. I’m so glad that you’re--_

_Shhhhh_ , Bucky says in his dream, rubbing tears against the curve of his throat. _Steve. It’s all right. I’m here_.

Which is the cruelest strike of all when Steve finally wakes up: he’s alone. Oh, there’s spunk on his stomach, all right, and he’s made a tangled mess of the sheets; there’s a phantom ache in his ass and he imagines he can still feel the scratch of stubble on his neck and on the turn of his jaw. But there’s nobody in his bed but him.

Later, at breakfast, it’s hard not to stare at the shadowed figure folded in the chair farthest from his, at the man he once knew so well working his way through toast and coffee without looking at anybody, without so much as saying a word. It’s been six months since they brought Bucky back, three since Stark set aside animus and worked hard to flush the HYDRA crap from his mind. Three months of seeing Bucky every day, of coming to terms hour by hour that the man who was his best friend, his partner in crime, the one person who understood him in the whole fucking world isn’t dead anymore, isn’t evil, but he’s far from the man Steve once knew.

That’s what’s triggered the dreams, he’s sure of it: some kind of misplaced sense of need and desire. They were never lovers before, never so much as kissed, but this--the kind of ache that it’s dug in him to have Bucky back, but only as a silent sort of shell--it’s easier for his body to understand as a physical need, he figures, than an emotional one.

The Bucky in his dreams looks him in the eye. The Bucky in his dreams wants to be close as badly as he does and clings to him long after he’s come. The Bucky in his dreams smiles and laughs and looks for all the world like he did when the world was young and stupid and god help them, they were, too.

So if he looks a little too long at the man at the end of the table, the man who won’t lift his head, who can’t bring himself to look Steve in the eye, well. It’s a little pathetic, maybe, but Bucky--the real Bucky, the one whose refracted shadow Steve sees in his dreams--would forgive him for that. Might even understand.

And if Steve makes a point of going to bed early some nights, of retreating while the hubbub is still in full swing in hopes of meeting that Bucky behind his eyelids, well. He can forgive himself for that, too.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [You're Back (Part II)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17203337) by [Crowgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowgirl/pseuds/Crowgirl)




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